Into Thin Air Read online

  Gale shifts the car into park and turns it off. We’ve arrived at Mom’s care facility.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?”

  I dry my nose with a tissue. I haven’t been able to stop crying since I read that newspaper article about the explosion. Well, I did manage to put on a fake smile in front of the doctor. Gale warned me that they might keep me in the hospital if I showed any psychological side effects of hitting my head. Or something like that. I’m a lawyer, not a doctor. Gale works in sports medicine, so he understands medical jargon. Anyway, it worked. I’m out.

  “Ellie?” Gale’s voice startles me. He asked me something. What was it?

  “Oh, no. I’m good. I need to spend some time with Mom alone. She’s always worried about me with my job and the hours I keep. It’ll be good to sit with her for a while without having any appointments to rush to.”

  He nods. “No problem. Call me if you want me to drive you home. I’m not going out tonight.”

  “I can walk the fifteen minutes back to my apartment. I need fresh air. How are things going with you and Mia? I don’t want to interfere with your love life.” I push out my lower lip.

  “I haven’t been with Mia for some time now. I told you that, but you’re too buried in work to listen. Well, if you don’t need me, I’m going to go. I need some sleep—I have to work tomorrow.”

  “I’m sorry. You don’t need to babysit me.”

  “Yes, I do, because I want to.” He squeezes my shoulder. “You’re my cousin and best friend, so when you hurt, I hurt. Got it?”

  My chin quivers. I can’t go in to Mom a total mess. I take a deep breath and open the car door. “I love you, Gale. Thanks for everything.” I kiss him on the cheek.

  “Call me when you’re ready to talk about what happened some more. I don’t care what time it is.”

  I crack a smile and get out of the car. I feel naked without my handbag and phone. I wave as Gale drives away. The door to the assisted living facility is a few feet in front of me, but I don’t go in. What do I say to Mom? Do I tell her everything or spare her from worrying about me? I don’t know if I can hold myself together.

  Mom’s friend, George, comes out. “Hey, Ellie,” he says happily and embraces me, then lets me go. “Your mom told us everything. We’re all glad you’re out of the hospital. You were one of the lucky ones.”

  I don’t feel so lucky right now.

  “Thanks, George. Maybe I’ll see you later. I’ll be here for a little while.”

  “Good. See you later then.”

  George is one of the men my mom has coffee and cake with every day. Sometimes I think he has a crush on her. She might be blind, but she still has her sass going for her. She’s the queen of flirting.

  Outside her room, I use my signature knock, then open the door. She spins in her blue Lazy Boy. “Ellie, sweetie. You’re here.”

  She’s assigned different signature knocks to certain people so she knows who’s at the door. Me, Gale, a few of her friends too.

  As soon as I see her face, my throat closes. I run to her as she rises from her chair.

  “Mommy,” I sob. Her embrace has never felt so good. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Sweetie,” she says, tracing her fingers over my face. “What’s wrong? I don’t like the sound of your voice. You only say Mommy when you’re really upset.”

  Ever since she lost her sight, she touches me more. It’s her way of seeing or expressing herself. Seeing through touching. If someone else did that to me, I’d hate it, but when it’s Mom, I know she’s showing me love. Her affection is evident whenever she strokes my face, holds my hand, or locks her arm with mine.

  “Let’s sit on the sofa,” she says. “I was so scared when I got the phone call from the police. I stayed with you in the hospital as long as they let me that night. Did you feel me holding your hand, or did you hear me talking to you?” We settle into the sofa, her arm around me, and I lose it.

  I zone in on the box of tissues that is always in the same spot. Every item in this apartment has its own specific place so she knows where it is. It makes living alone with little help easier for her. It’s been amazing to watch her adapt to this new lifestyle. She never complains. Well, maybe she does a little bit when it comes to her soap operas. She hates that she can’t watch them; she can only listen. She has such a crush on Jason Morgan on General Hospital. I did too, when I was younger. Now she can’t see him.

  “Talk to me. I was surprised Gale called me when you woke up instead of you.”

  “I’m sorry. I was too upset. I don’t know where to start. You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

  She squeezes my hands but doesn’t let go. “You have my full attention. Even if the phone rings or someone comes to the door—I’m all yours.”

  I pull one hand away so I can clean my nose with a tissue again. It’s already chapped and sore from crying at the hospital.

  “I don’t know how to start this, because I don’t know what’s real anymore. I woke up screaming in the hospital with Gale holding me. I thought I had been in a helicopter accident.”

  Her eyebrows crinkle in confusion. “When were you in a helicopter? I thought you flew on a plane to LA.”

  “According to everyone else, that’s what I did. They say the helicopter crash was a dream, but I swear on my life it wasn’t.”

  “Sweetie, you’re not making sense. Start from the beginning.”

  “Okay. I was at a resort on a tropical island. Obviously, I flew there, but I don’t remember the flight at all. I just woke up on a bus in front of the hotel. I was by myself, and I was elated to be alone. Away from my job, from Cooper. I broke up with him before I went on vacation, by the way.”

  “Oh. I’m glad. He was a real jerk at the hospital. I never liked him, Ellie. He was so angry when he visited you there. He didn’t believe that you were unconscious. I could’ve smacked him upside the head. I wish I’d known you’d broken up with him. I wouldn’t have allowed him in your room.”

  It seems everybody hated Cooper. I wouldn’t ever have said we were in a serious relationship, but now—what was I thinking getting involved with him? Not that it matters. Back to the story.

  “Anyway, the resort was absolutely perfect. I had this big suite to myself with a beautiful parrot that seemed to live there. I named him Petie after the parakeet we used to have. I actually took off from work without notice. I left a message for my manager. Did you get the message I left you, that I was taking a vacation? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you more. I just had to get away.”

  She doesn’t say anything but shakes her head slowly. “I only knew that you were going to LA for work. That’s what you told me the last time I spoke to you. I didn’t hear from you again until after you woke up in the hospital. You never mentioned any of this. I thought you were upset just because of the explosion.”

  How can my heart hurt so much without having a heart attack? I feel empty without Sam next to me. Why was he taken away from me like this?

  I spend a few minutes gushing about how great my suite was. “Then I met a guy named Sam. His suite was next to mine, and he was also there alone. I didn’t want to fall for him, but I did.” I bury my head in my hands.

  “It was so easy to love him. Once our skin touched, it exploded from there. Hard. Every second we had, we spent together, lying around in our bathing suits… neither of us had a care in the world. The days ran into each other. We told each other secrets we’ve never told anyone else. He was the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. But Mom, his inner beauty shined the most, and it made me fall in love with him.

  “I can’t explain it. It was love from the very beginning. I heard his voice before I saw him, and I was hooked. He was magnetizing; I couldn’t resist the pull to him. He made me feel like I was the most beautiful woman in the world. But the weird thing is, we never told each other where we live. I don’t even know his last name! I have no idea how or where to find him.”

>   “Weren’t there other people around?”

  “Yes, but they were a blur when I was with him. We were in our own little world.”

  “But maybe they were a blur for a reason,” she says cautiously.

  I want to ignore her, but every little question I can’t answer already has me doubting myself. Why were there moments when everything seemed frozen in time? Why don’t I remember how many days I was there? Why did I have an ugly yellow suitcase when I usually have a black one?

  “He was a pilot and surprised me with a helicopter ride. You know how I despise flying but I did it anyway. That’s when the helicopter went down. It was the most horrifying experience I’ve ever had. Worse than anything in my dreams. But the weird thing is, he disappeared from the helicopter when we started going down. I kept screaming his name, but I never saw him again. How can someone vanish into thin air?”

  She wraps me in her arms while I break down once again.

  “I remember the impact… hitting the water and the rotors slamming into the ocean. I screamed so loud… I’m surprised I still have a voice box. How could it have been only a dream if I physically felt it?” My sorrow is beginning to turn to anger.

  “I’m sorry I don’t have the answers for you, sweetie. Maybe things will become clearer as the days pass. I want to believe you, but I was in your hospital room. I saw you lying in bed. I held your hand while Gale massaged your feet. We hoped it would help you somehow. It’s a bonus that he’s a physical therapist at Seattle University. Gale even played your favorite music.

  “Cooper was in the room too—being his delightful self, smelling up the room with his horrible cologne. Whew, he wears a lot. Gale told him to leave several times.”

  That’s when I was dreaming by the pool.

  I squirm out of her arms and spring off the couch. “Mom, I need to go home. I’m sorry to cut this visit short.”

  “Did I say something wrong?” She reaches out for me.

  “Sorry. I’m right here.” I extend my arm for her. “No.”

  She stands up and wraps her arm around my waist. “Don’t you want to stay for lunch? I could make you a turkey sandwich the way you like it. You must be hungry—hospital food is dreadful.” She rests her hand on my cheek.

  I’m glad she can’t see my facial expression. Hopefully, she can’t feel it either. “I’m just mentally exhausted. I want to shower. I need to straighten things out in my head.” I scan the apartment for my stuff.

  “Mom, where’s my handbag? Gale said you took it with you.”

  “It’s in my bedroom, hanging off the doorknob.”

  She sits down on the recliner, and I take my bag off the door.

  “Gale only went through your purse to get your insurance card. Your keys are in there. He told me he didn’t open your suitcase when he took it to your apartment, so he doesn’t know if anything was damaged inside.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll check when I get home. I wonder if my work laptop survived.” Right now, I wouldn’t care if it didn’t.

  I hug and kiss her goodbye. Now I’ll be alone for the first time since I woke up in the hospital. I’m not sure I can handle it.

  ∞

  The three flights of stairs up to my apartment have never felt so exhausting. I’m out of breath as I turn the key to unlock my door. When it opens, I stand in the doorway and scan the empty apartment. It looks like Pottery Barn threw up. The couches are seafoam green. I’ll have to look at those every day and remember the similarly colored dress I wore on our first unforgettable date. I wanted to be alone at the resort, but now it feels more like a punishment or a curse. Being alone will only make me overthink everything and cry even more.

  I close the door and see my suitcase sitting to the right by the shoes. A black suitcase, not mustard yellow. Sun shines through the windows, which I’m thankful for. Rain wouldn’t be good for my mood right now. I place my handbag and keys on the table by the door and freeze when I see the basket full of colorful umbrellas waiting for me, right next to my rain boots. Just like at the resort, but the ones there were fancier and more vibrant.

  You can never have too many umbrellas when you live in Seattle.

  And that’s when I snap. I grab them, one at a time, screaming. I whip them across the room. One hits a glass lamp and swipes it off the table like a bowling pin, shattering it into pieces on the floor. Another slams against a bookshelf full of law books. The green one knocks a picture frame off a windowsill, just missing the window by an inch. Anger pulsates through me as tears stream down my face. The adrenaline high makes me sick to my stomach. I want to punch something hard, but I know it won’t erase the loss of Sam. I can’t and won’t believe that he’s gone. Or that he doesn’t exist.

  I walk past the mess, put my suitcase in my bedroom, and then go straight into the bathroom to take a shower. Can you wash sorrow off your body? There’s no fancy shower or bathtub to enjoy anymore. I shower as quickly as possible because I keep flashing back to the bath Sam and I took when he had that migraine and then fooling around in the shower right before we went up in the helicopter.

  Now I stand in front of my bed, staring at the suitcase plopped in the center of it. I’m afraid to open it, like it’s going to reveal this big scam. I unzip it slowly and lift the flap. I remove my work computer from the special divider for it, then pull it from its case to see if it’s broken, since there was a supposed explosion. Whatever. I open it, and the screen looks fine, but it won’t turn on. It’s probably out of battery.

  The next thing I see is a large manila envelope and a portfolio of some kind. I open it, and I’m overcome with memories of my trip to LA. I drop onto the bed and try to gather my thoughts.

  My hands shake as I take out some signed copies of legal documents regarding the divorce case with Carlotta Weis. Yes. Right. I sigh with disappointment. I had a meeting with her about her pending divorce. She’s trying to suck her husband dry. She got breast implants before the divorce was final so her cheating husband had to pay for them. Her soon-to-be ex-husband. She’s such a leech. I lay them next to me on the bed and try to calm myself. I don’t want to remember this stuff.

  After a couple deep breaths, I sift through the portfolio. There are photos of a woman named Jenny Parton. Oh, Carlotta’s daughter. Jenny wants to be a model and pushed her portfolio on me. I flip through the pictures again. They aren’t bad, but I can’t say they’re extraordinary. But what do I know? I remember her bragging about her boyfriend, whoever the hell he is.

  So I was in LA… I remember dreading the flights. My manager should’ve been there instead of me, but because I had that seminar there… Stephanie told me to take the meeting instead of her. I didn’t want to work with this client because it’s a typical Hollywood divorce with a lot of money involved. I didn’t become a lawyer to handle Hollywood divorces! Everyone says I have to do this stuff to become a partner. When did I ever say I wanted to be a partner? Never!

  No wonder I went straight from LA to the resort. I needed a mental breather.

  I remove everything from the suitcase but don’t find the chargers for my phones and computer. I stick my hand in the front pocket and pull out several brochures that I don’t recognize and then the chargers. I toss the brochures on the nightstand and plug in all my electronics. I love technology, but having different chargers for everything is a pain in the ass.

  My business phone lights up once it has a little charge. Do I want to look at it? No! I know I should call my manager, but I have no desire to do so right now. I’ll send an email saying the doctor said I should stay home until Monday. I’ll go in tomorrow to drop off the documents from the LA trip and the doctor’s letter.

  I throw my dirty clothes in the laundry, pick up the brochures, and drag myself to the kitchen to make a cup of soothing tea. While the water boils, I observe the heavy rain now pelting against the window. So much for the sun. Back to Seattle weather where my hair is so frizzy, I need to put it up in a bun every day when I go to work.
/>   The water kettle turns itself off. I place my favorite Starbucks mug next to it and dangle a chamomile teabag over its rim. I watch the steam rise as I pour the water in, then I pick up the mug and take it to the table. I sit cross-legged on my chair, both hands wrapped around the cup to warm me up. It’s not cold out—it’s late June—but my body is frozen. I just want to curl up in my bed, wake up tomorrow from this nightmare, and be back in Sam’s arms in our little love nest.

  The mug becomes too hot to hold, so I set it next to the brochures. I glance at them again and sit up, ramrod straight. These are all brochures for luxury resorts. I sift through them, and one catches my eye. No! I cry out loud. My stomach twists, and I cover my face with my hands. It can’t be. It’s our resort. Petie’s on the cover, and so is a sea turtle.

  Suddenly, I’m in a spinning funnel, sucking me back to when I found this brochure. I fell backward onto someone’s suitcase, and that’s when I saw him for the first time. Sam. That’s where I met him. At the airport, not the resort. He does exist!

  This is so surreal. It was a fucking dream. All the facts come together, and I am devastated.

  Petie wasn’t real. It was just the picture I saw. The same with the sea turtles. But I do love sea turtles, and my dad did give me a stuffed animal. The pictures of the rooms match the suite I had. Even the photo of the water fountain in front of the hotel is similar. I rip the brochure in half and throw the pieces across the kitchen.

  I slam my fists on the table, splashing my tea. How could I have been so naïve? All the similarities… how is this possible? I’m bombarded with information, and my brain goes haywire. I search through the apartment for a pen and some paper, then settle at the table to write.

  I list the parrot, turtles, suite, and Sam. His name is probably not even Sam. We never said our names in the airport. Not that I remember, anyway. His sexy voice and exotic eyes were a distraction there, just as they were in my dream.

  If I was injured in the explosion, he probably was too. What if he didn’t survive? No, he had to have survived—we were right next to each other.